


man, eagerly

by cowboylakay



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboylakay/pseuds/cowboylakay
Summary: Arthur comes back to camp injured, and the new guy happens to be on guard.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	man, eagerly

The moon is only yet giving way to the sun when he returns to camp, beaten and bruised from a scrap with a small gaggle of O’Driscolls. He’s tired, hurting in more places than one or three, and wants nothing more than to collapse into his cot and will the injuries away. As if reminded of the comfort awaiting him, he spurs Boadicea into a trot upon reaching the edge of camp.

“Who’s there?!” He hears someone call from the darkness. It’s Charles Smith, the newest addition to their gang, on guard duty for what seems to be the fifth time this month.

“It’s Arthur!” He calls back, his mare nickering at the volume of his voice. He’s never really talked to Charles before, not since Dutch and Hosea first brought him on; it’s not like he’s purposefully avoiding him, unlike that Micah Bell, another new addition that he still can’t understand why is with them— there just wasn’t a real reason to. Arthur initially guessed that Charles wasn’t a big fan of small talk or interrogation masked as getting to know each other, so he’s let it lie since then.

“I was wondering when you’d be back,” Charles says, grip on the rifle relaxing. Arthur grunts in acknowledgment, ready to let go of another opportunity to speak to him in order to get some sleep before the sun fully rises, when Charles hums thoughtfully. “You’re hurt.”

“It ain’t nothin’,” Arthur says, lines already practiced as he slows Boadicea close to Charles. He looks up at Arthur, warm brown eyes sharp and assessing as they inspect him. He wonders, briefly, if Charles can see his soul. “Once I get some sleep, I’ll be right as rain.”

“Those cuts’ll get infected,” Charles tells him, gesturing at the torn skin of his knuckles. There’s a slight sting of pain as the wind blows coldly against the cuts, as if reminding Arthur that they were there. Charles shoulders his rifle, turning back towards camp. “I’ve got an ointment that can probably help with that.”

The invitation is clear and casual and entirely not what Arthur is expecting. He recovers from the surprise enough to register Charles’ words. “I thought you was on guard duty?”

Charles looks back towards him with an amused, tired smile. He looks good when he smiles, Arthur thinks. “I’m done for the night. Come on.”

Arthur follows Charles, wondering when he’d get so easy with the people in camp to just do what they ask him to do. He dismounts and hitches Boadicea with the other horses to graze, patting her neck for a moment before continuing on. Charles, like many of the newer recruits, sleeps on a bedroll not too far from the scout campfire. His space is sparsely decorated, with only a picture frame of what seems to be him and his parents and a small pouch next to it. Beside his bedroll is Lenny, having fallen asleep sitting.

“Hey,” Charles says to Lenny, who startles awake at the sound of his voice. “Your turn to take guard.”

“Already? Damn,” Lenny mutters near incoherently, rubbing at a creak in his neck as he stands. “Oh, hey, Arthur.”

“Hi, Lenny,” Arthur replies, and that’s that. Lenny’s gone in a matter of seconds, leaving Charles to rifle through his things and for Arthur to awkwardly stand behind him as he waits. The sky is slowly painting itself orange, clouds rolling in like waves and the sun gently breaching the horizon. It’s beautiful, Arthur would say, if he were a man who can call things beautiful.

“Here,” Charles tells him, and gestures to where Lenny had been sitting before. Arthur takes a seat as Charles gestures to his knuckles, holding a tin can in one hand. “May I?”

Arthur blinks in surprise, and he wonders when Charles will stop catching him off guard him like that. “Uh, sure, alright.”

Neither of them are very gentle men, but Charles takes Arthur’s hands and starts applying the ointment with a gentleness he knows he doesn’t deserve. It has a faint minty, earthy smell to it, but mostly it hardly smells like anything at all. He can feel the calluses of Charles’ hands, fingers smearing ointment across his knuckles with great care and attention. Not for the first time, Arthur is at a loss on the character that is Charles Smith.

“There, so long as you don’t wash it off, it’ll take,” Charles tells him, wiping the rest on his shirt and closing the tin. He looks up at Arthur, and Arthur looks back at him, eyes wide and ears burning. Charles smiles again, as if privy to a secret Arthur isn’t aware of. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

Arthur swallows, gets up, and avoids dusting his jeans. “Night, Charles. Thank you.”

 _What a strange one, that Charles Smith,_ Arthur thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m [lakay](https://cowboylakay.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
